


The sun set this morning

by LiteratiGeek



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 11:38:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1224874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiteratiGeek/pseuds/LiteratiGeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ellaria Sand's reaction to the death of Oberyn Martell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The sun set this morning

**Author's Note:**

> So, it bugs the shit out of me that we get "Ellaria Sand wailed in terror..." immediately following the death of Oberyn, we hear the Dornish are held in King's Landing for a time, and then the next we see of her she's in the Sunspear in AFFC after stopping at the water gardens. She was with the man for at least 14 years and just watched him get his head smashed in! Give me grief!
> 
> Italics are memories
> 
> It ends with letters 6 similar ones (written as one here) sent to Obara, Nymeria, Tyene, Sarella, Arianne, and Elia. And a separate sent to Doran.

The sun had set. Although she had not been outside since that morning, the only light in the room was from the candles about her and so she knew. She was still in the same orange dress that he had suggested. The longer she stared the more she noticed the red specks that plagued her. They covered the orange dress and a patch flecked her cheek. For some time she had no knowledge of how they got there, until she remembered.

_“Then I smashed her fucking head in. Like this.” The large man drew back his hand but only for a moment before there was a crunch._

Hastily she tugged at her dress, foregoing the straps and laces that held it together. She heard stitches ripping and threads snapping but eventually the gown laid in a pool of orange about her ankles that she stepped from. She covered herself with her arms and looked about the room. There was the large opened trunk that he had riffled through that morning sitting against the wall.

She remembered when they arrived she had been in a daze. _Upon entering her quarters once again, she uttered just one thing, “What am I to do with all his things?”_

She pulled from the trunk his favored traveling coat. It was bright yellow with the sun of Martell embroidered on it. She pulled the coat on, the sleeves were too long on her and the waist too wide but she held it tight about her with a deep breath. It smelled of the rich spices that hung about him, the musk of his horse he had ridden, and the breath of the wine he had drank. She turned and walked back to the bed to lay down again.

_Her legs could not hold her, she had gone weak. The imp had thrown up only moments before the men came to drag him off. She screamed again, this time clouded by his name. She felt a hand on her arm and yanked it back._

_“Ellaria, we should go back to the castle.”_

_“I will not go anywhere without!” Ellaria snapped._

_“Ellaria…” The handmaiden insisted with a small frown._

_“He will get up!” Ellaria shouted at her and turned to face her fallen love again. Slowly she rose to her feet, her legs weak from the blow her knees took on the wooden platform._

_“He cannot…” The handmaiden continued but Ellaria ignored her, starting for the body of her befallen paramour. The woman reached out for her again, this time about her waist, “Let me go! You will let me go to him!” Ellaria shouted again, turning back to aim a slap at the woman’s face but she caught her wrist before she could. “You…will let me go to him, now.” Ellaria hissed through gritted teeth._

_The woman released her hold and Ellaria ran out on the platform, dropping to her knees once more, “Oberyn, my love, get up.” She breathed out. His body lay in a heap, his face pressed into the wood below soaked crimson with the prince’s blood. “Get up.” Ellaria repeated as people began to swarm the platform. Most were going to the aid of The Mountain who seemed yet to live._

_“Get up!” She screamed, her throat aching and her voice stretching to its breaking point. She had just reached out to touch his shoulder when she felt arms about her again. This time larger than the handmaiden, she must have sent a man for the job she could not do. “No!” Ellaria screamed, attempting to turn and fight against her captor._

_She saw men dressed in Lannister read swarm the prince and screamed again, “What are they doing with him?” She asked as she was drug back under the covering beside the platform. The man picked him up and placed him in a cart, “Where are they taking him? They cannot take him! He is of Dorne! He is not theirs! Let me go!” Ellaria screamed again. “He was not going to die!” She got out before her voice left her completely._

She heard the door to her quarters open and close. The soft footfalls of a handmaiden echoed on the stone floor. “Ellaria, I have brought food from the kitchens.” The handmaiden told her, placing a tray on the table beside the bed. Ellaria looked up at her without a word, still clutching Oberyn’s coat to her chest. “The queen regent was saddened you did not join them. She seemed in better spirits then she has since the wedding.”

“Why would the queen regent have wanted me there?” Ellaria asked in a strained voice.

“You are an honored guest, she wishes for all honored guests to attend feasts.”

Ellaria sat up slowly, tired eyes staring up at the young handmaiden. She was not of Dorne, she was of the castle. She was young, she did not know the words she spoke. “Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne was an honored guest and she had a beast mangle him this morn.” Ellaria told her with venom in her words. “I am nothing.” She spat out. “I am a bastard of Dorne.” She added in the same tone, “Everything I was died this morning!” She shouted at the handmaiden. “Now leave me!” She finished and laid back down, pulling the coat up further.

“Yes, Ellaria.” The handmaiden replied with a quick bow and hurried for the door. She had yet to reach it when Ellaria spoke up again.

“You will return…and you will bring me parchment, ink, and a quill. You will put them on that desk and not disturb me when you do.” Ellaria snapped at her. She heard a vague muttering of a reply and then the door close once again.

* * *

 

My dearest Obara

Nymeria

Tyene

Sarella

Arianne

Elia

I am writing in hopes that these blasted birds fly faster than words on the wind. I wished to be able to tell you in person, in truth I wished to never have to tell you these words at all, your father  
               your uncle

                        has died. He was killed in a duel, fighting for the honor of Lord Tyrion Lannister. He was killed by the hand of the man who killed his sister. It was not before he was able to lay his blade to the man. I know that your father  
                                                                                      your uncle

                                                                                               insured that any man to touch his blade would die with the setting sun. He died with his last wish. He died killing the man he hunted for years. He died honorably, and although he often told me he wished to die at an old age with a full life, I do not doubt he regrets it. Take comfort. I will return shortly.

My love,  
            Ellaria Sand

* * *

 

 

My dear friend Prince Doran,

I know that by the time this reaches you, you will have received word from the king of the death of your brother. I ask only this. That you remember that I have known you only merely months less than I have known your brother. I have lived in your home. I have shared your food and your wine. I pray. I plead. That you extend the same love and protection your brother held for my daughters until I return. I know I am not of your house, but my daughters are of your blood. Please, until I return.

Ellaria


End file.
